


New California Murder Ballads

by SynthApostate



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 1, Fallout 3, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 17:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10598952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SynthApostate/pseuds/SynthApostate
Summary: Much of the early musical tradition of the New California Republic is attributed to one mythical 23rd century musician. Two centuries later, a selection of these songs and ballads have been compiled in this volume, in hopes that we of the folklore department may capture the wild spirit of our great nation in its infancy.





	1. Introduction to the Third Edition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moon_crater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_crater/gifts).



> Best Friend Moon: prompts on the kinkmeme without telling me  
> Me: fills the prompt without telling her
> 
> We are a sitcom.
> 
> So apparently I'm adapting a bunch of murder ballads, border ballads, and cowboy songs for the post-apocalypse. Not all of these will be about murder and death, but like in real folk music, it's going to come up. A lot. Boone's chapter involves infanticide; will warn for that again when the time comes.

**Introduction to the Third Edition  
  
** The following is a collection of songs and ballads attributed to the wandering singer popularly known as the Lonesome Drifter—who should not be confused with the legendary outlaw of the same period known only as the Mysterious Stranger, or with the folk hero the Lone Wanderer, who is said to have visited the Mojave in the late 23rd century from “a land far to the east,” possibly as far away as Iowa. (The Mysterious Stranger makes an appearance in Ballad 15, “Lady Luck,” while the Lone Wanderer is featured in both “Take It Back” and the humorous “Snake in the Shaft.”)  
  
The Lonesome Drifter is part of a rich Californian tradition of wandering heroes passing from town to town, strangers to everyone they meet. Some of these characters, like Move-Along Joe, are mere works of fiction. Others, such as the unnamed protagonist of “Eden’s Arroyo” may have some historical basis. But which was the Lonesome Drifter?  
  
There are legends of such a person having traveled as far north as Wyoming, and as far south as Veracruz. But little, if anything, is known of his life. The only historical evidence that such a person may have existed is a single document listing the Lonesome Drifter as one of several performers at the Tops Casino in the Vegas Free State in early 2282. Is this the same Lonesome Drifter to whom so many folk songs are attributed?  
  
If a single person wrote even a fraction of the material credited to the Lonesome Drifter, he would be the most prolific songwriter in Californian history. Most folklorists consider it far more likely that many of these songs existed long before their supposed twenty-third century origins, possibly even having roots in the protohistorical traditions of pre-calamity America. It is well known that traveling singers and storytellers were welcome in settlements across the land that would become California, serving as both a means of sharing news and messages across great distances that was far more reliable than what contemporary technology allowed, and as the only form of entertainment settlers in the rad zones might see for months at a time. As such, historians suggest that, to isolated people of this era, _every_ stranger with a guitar on his back was a “Lonesome Drifter.” Many undoubtedly passed through town after town without giving their names, only sharing timeworn songs and tales familiar to the performers, but refreshingly new to members of the audience.  
  
And yet, the image persists of a single human man tramping up the road to a quiet town with his cowboy hat pulled low over his face and a six-string on his back. He is not merely an archetype; as much as any of the subjects of “his” songs, he is a true Californian folk hero and a part of our national consciousness.  
  
Did he ever really exist? Perhaps not. In this age, one can hardly imagine his world. The wild bighorners no longer roam the open plains. The gecko and the coyote have learned again to fear the hand of man. The radiation storms have quieted, and the bones of ruined cities are covered over with the growth of the modern world. We have no room for Lonesome Drifters here.

And yet...  
  
You may never chance to see him, but perhaps some evening as you look into a quiet valley shrouded in the purple shadows of twilight, you’ll spy a winding mountain road that leads—you know not where. And your heart will give a thump, and you’ll believe you’ve just missed seeing a stranger take the farthest turning. And although you know there’s no one there, the breeze may carry back to you the faint and far refrain of a strange, familiar song.  
  
J.A.L., Archivist  
Shady Sands University Folklore Department  
August 8, 2497


	2. The Ballad of Courier Six

**The Ballad of Courier Six  
  
** Courier Six and Benny  
Sat there gambling late.  
Courier Six threw seven,  
Benny swore that he threw eight.  
  
The Courier said to Benny,  
"I chased you to the Strip,  
And you won all of my money,  
And you stole my platinum chip.  
  
"I walked all the way from Goodsprings,  
Through the gates and past the shops,  
I walked to the home of the Chairmen,  
The casino called the Tops.  
  
"You were there that night in Goodsprings,  
I know that you know who I am."  
Benny looked her in the eye,  
And said, "I don't give a damn."  
  
The Courier said to Benny,  
"Don't you try no tricks.  
You let five couriers pass you by  
And you tried to murder Six.  
  
"Walking up through Goodsprings,  
I didn't do you no harm,  
Then your gang of tribals found me  
And caught me by the arm.  
  
"They took me to the graveyard.  
You shot me in the head.  
You left me in a shallow grave.  
You left me there for dead."  
  
Benny said to the Courier,  
“Please don’t take my life.  
Come away to my private room  
And I’ll treat you like my wife.”  
  
Benny told the Courier  
That he would not attack,  
All the while planning  
To leave his knife in her back.  
  
The Courier shot at Benny,  
She could not let that pass,  
But the bullet missed the Chairman  
And broke the bartender's glass.  
  
Benny ran across the river,  
And Six searched up and down,  
Said, “I’m going to find you, Benny,  
And put you six feet underground.”  
  
Benny got himself captured  
And Six came out on top.  
That boy should have known better  
Than to start what he couldn't stop.  
  
When Caesar saw Six coming  
He said, "Now listen to me,  
We gotta win this Courier to our side  
'Cause Six is tougher than me."  
  
And Six grabbed hold of Caesar,  
And said, "Get off your throne.  
Now your working days are over.  
I can run this place on my own."  
  
"Listen to me, you Legion!"  
(The guardsmen crack the whip.)  
"This Benny tried to murder me,  
And stole my platinum chip."  
  
Now Benny had no money,  
So Six took his coat and hat.  
Benny said, “I’m already dying,  
How can you do me like that?”  
  
Standing under the wooden cross  
With his head held way up high,  
The cross was how they killed him,  
They were all glad to see him die.  
  
Then Caesar heard a rumbling,  
A rumbling under the ground.  
He said, "That must be Courier Six  
Turning Benny upside down."  
  
Six came back to Caesar,  
But no more words were said,  
For Caesar was also her enemy.  
Six put six holes in his head.  
  
Archivist’s notes: Benny the Chairman and Courier Six (sometimes given as Curry Six or other derivations) are enduring characters in the oral traditions of the Nevada Territories. There are numerous variations on the basic story, some presenting them as bitter enemies, others as business rivals, and still others as star-crossed lovers. Nearly every version of the ballad involves an attempted murder and premature burial, as well as a second meeting in the city of Vegas. Most end with Benny’s death at Six’s hand, although in some of the more romantic versions, he disappears into the sunset, either alone or at her side. A few, such as this one, refer to Six going “under the ground,” possibly suggesting that she follows Benny into the afterlife to take a more thorough revenge.  
  
Folklorists believe that the abrupt shift of focus to Caesar’s Legion indicates a borrowing from an unrelated ballad at a much later date.

 

_This is based on several different versions of[The Ballad](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FCPutYaGFlE) [of](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kBu-ExfgCTo) [Stagger Lee](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NAPF42aAXSM)/[Stagalee](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W0rA3Dmu9B4)/[Stack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4scedJs6hC8) [O’Lee](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uINi-b5Fi1o), which is much more recent than anything else I’ll be using._


	3. The Constant Scribe

**The Constant Scribe**  
  
\- _I am the Knight. I come by night,  
As secret as I can,  
Saying,_ “I must leave you now.  
I am banished from the clan.”  
  
\- “Why do you have to leave me?  
I beg you, tell me true,  
For, in my mind, of all mankind  
I can love only you.”  
  
\- “I stood against the Elders,  
And now I must die, or run,  
So I withdraw as an outlaw,  
And take with me my gun.  
  
I’ll say goodbye, my darling,  
And leave you while I can.  
I must go to the Wasteland  
Alone, a banished man.”  
  
\- “I hear you say goodbye, but no!  
I will not stay behind.  
Never say the Constant Scribe  
Could treat you so unkind.  
  
If you are ready, so am I.  
I will not say adieu.  
For, in my mind, of all mankind  
I can love only you.”  
  
\- “The way is hard, the world is wide,  
My life will be toil and pain.  
If you should follow, you would soon  
Choose to come home again.  
  
I’ll tell you of the hardships  
As truly as I can.  
I must go to the Wasteland  
Alone, a banished man.”  
  
\- “I have lived my life in this fortress  
And never seen the sun,  
But I’m not afraid to try it.  
I’ll be with you when you run.  
  
If you can bear the hardship,  
Then I can bear it, too.  
For, in my mind, of all mankind  
I can love only you.”  
  
\- “But, have you considered  
What will the Elders say  
When they hear that you love an outlaw  
And we both have gone away?  
  
Not even for the love of me  
Should you defy the clan.  
I must go to the Wasteland  
Alone, a banished man.”  
  
\- “So they shall talk about me,  
And blacken my good name,  
But I will go with you, love,  
And I will feel no shame.  
  
Any who would not do so  
Must not be lovers true,  
For, in my mind, of all mankind  
I can love only you.”  
  
\- “Then you must bear a rifle,  
And not hesitate to shoot,  
And cheat and lie, and steal and kill  
With a razor in your boot.  
  
I want no harm to come to you,  
For that would be far worse than  
If I went to the Wasteland  
Alone, a banished man.”  
  
\- “I’ll cheat and steal and fight and kill.  
I’ll do all this and more,  
If I can just be with you.  
I’ve said it all before.  
  
The world will fall before us,  
The world against us two,  
For, in my mind, of all mankind  
I still love only you.”  
  
\- “And if I’m caught and hanged, love,  
And waver in the wind,  
Then you’ll be all alone there,  
And who will you call friend?  
  
Stay here, my love, in safety,  
The safety of the clan,  
I must go to the Wasteland  
Alone, a banished man.”  
  
\- “A Scribe exists to learn, indeed,  
Not battle as a Knight,  
But I would stand with gun in hand  
And I would stay and fight.  
  
I’ll learn to use a rifle,  
And my aim will be true,  
For, in my mind, of all mankind  
I can love only you.”  
  
\- _But the Knight went into the Wasteland  
And left behind the Scribe,  
Left for the sake of her safety  
Alone in their cold-hearted tribe.  
  
The Knight wandered far in the Wasteland  
And whispered the words anew,_  
“Oh Constant Scribe, of all mankind,  
I can love only you.”  
  
\- _And the Scribe walked into the Wasteland  
Seeking her Wandering Knight,  
Though the road was long and the dangers great  
And the sun was hot and bright.  
  
And at the end of that lonesome road,  
The lovers met again._  
“For I told the clan where to stick it.  
Now we both are banished men.”  
  
Archivist’s notes: Despite the repetitions of “Alone, a banished man,” it is commonly believed that the characters of the Wandering Knight and the Constant Scribe are both female. This interpretation has carried over to a number of cultural adaptations including Jean Stanton’s seminal historical novel _Sisterhood of Steel_ , and the early Mojave Expressionist holofilm _Constance and Vanessa_. While the film has been considered lost since the 2430s, its New Reno porn parody of the same era has survived, and has been the subject of much critical study by historians.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on "The Nut-Brown Maid," which is unfortunately not about lesbians, nor are there any porn parodies. That I know of.


	4. Don't Throw Me Out On The Old Scrap Heap

**Don't Throw Me Out On The Old Scrap Heap**  
  
“Don’t throw me out on the old scrap heap,”  
These words came low and mournfully  
From the face-screen of a bot who lay  
On his dying bed at the close of day.  
  
He had flickered and sparked till on his screen  
The static fast was gathering;  
He thought of his home in a penthouse high  
As the townsfolk gathered to see him die.  
  
“Don’t throw me out on the old scrap heap,  
Where the wild coyotes will howl and leap,  
In a grave of refuse, wide and deep,  
Don’t throw me out on the old scrap heap.  
  
“I think of home and the penthouse tower,  
But the network’s down in my dying hour.  
The data’s corrupted and the backup’s lost,  
The debt is paid and my life’s the cost.  
  
“It matters not, I’ve oft been told,  
Where the body lies when the processor’s cold;  
Yet promise me when I should sleep,  
Don’t throw me out on the old scrap heap.  
  
“Don’t throw me out on the old scrap heap,  
In a grave of refuse, wide and deep,  
Where the wind blows wild and the scavengers creep;  
Don’t throw me out on the old scrap heap.  
  
“There are none left with tears to shed  
For one who lies on a garbage bed;  
My brothers all have gone before,  
My creator lived, but he lives no more.  
  
“I have no mother to raise a prayer,  
No sister’s tears will linger there,  
But remember the ones who cannot weep  
And don’t throw me out on the old scrap heap.  
  
“Don’t throw me out on the old scrap heap,  
Where the wild coyotes will howl and leap,  
Where the crows fly free and the breezes sweep,  
Don’t throw me out on the old scrap heap.  
  
“Don’t throw me out,” and his voice failed there,  
But we took no heed of his dying prayer;  
In a grave of refuse, wide and deep,  
We threw him out on the old scrap heap.  
  
Where the radium glows and the bloatflies rest  
And the yucca blooms o’er the canyon’s crest  
The folks hauling trash to the garbage dump  
Don’t hardly notice that titanium lump.  
  
“Don’t throw me out on the old scrap heap,  
Where the wild coyotes will howl and leap,  
Where the geckos hiss and the scavengers creep,  
Don’t throw me out on the old scrap heap.”  


Archivist’s Notes: In some versions of this song, a backup disc for the dying robot is found, miraculously saving him in the final verse. This alternate ending is not found in recordings prior to the 2390s, when it first began to gain popularity as a children’s campfire song.

 

_This is based on “The Dying Cowboy” or “[Bury Me Not On the Lone Prairie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZF1KRnkKNlc),” which was adapted for cowboys from Edwin Hubbell Chapin’s “The Ocean Burial,” also called “The Sailor’s Grave” or “Burial at Sea.” You may have heard this song in “The Wacky Wabbit,” in which Bugs Bunny sings a few lines while burying Elmer Fudd in the desert._


	5. Gloria's Hair

**Gloria's Hair**  
  
Black was the color of Gloria’s hair  
But she did wrong to a Rose so fair  
The clearest eyes and the steadiest hands  
Rose spits on the ground where Gloria stands  
  
Her family business wronged the Rose  
Who spits on the ground where Gloria goes  
“If you no more on earth I see,  
I can’t serve you as you have me.”  
  
The summer’s passed and the ground is bare  
They burned the wagons and left Rose there  
But still she hopes the day will come  
When Gloria falls to Rose’s gun  
  
She goes to the bar to mourn and weep  
But satisfied she can never sleep  
She’ll avenge herself of Gloria’s crime  
And bring her death ten thousand times  
  
The clearest eye, the steadiest hands  
Rose spits on the ground where Gloria stands  
The summer’s passed and the ground is bare  
And she’ll make that bitch eat her own black hair

  
Archivist’s Notes: This song may relate to a dispute between two of the many rival trading caravans that crossed the Mojave before legislation in the 2280s brought about an end to certain unethical business practices. Before that time, the destruction of a rival business in the frontier region carried with it no serious penalty as long as no surviving witnesses could be found. Thus it was often cheaper to murder the competition than to buy them out.

 

_This is based on “[Black Is the Color of My True Love’s Hair](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=edOiC5iTXmo),” a romantic ballad with no murder in it. But where’s the fun in that?_


End file.
